Open Up Their Eyes to See
by jinxed-lulu
Summary: Felicity knew she'd been a bit distant after the whole 'I love you/we sold it' ordeal. / First prompt for "Olicity Flash Fics" for summer 2014.


**Disclaimer:** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

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**A/N:** Information and prompts can be found at smoakandarrow's Tumblr. Prompt #1: _Into the Wild_.

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**Open Up Their Eyes to See**

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"Felicity," Oliver's voice sounded from behind her, she did always love the way he said her name—dragged out to three syllables and conveyed every ounce of affection or ire he held at the given time.

"Felicity!" there he went again, only this time filled with irritation, as she'd lost herself in thinking about his voice caressing her name, while attempting her mind from drifting to Oliver caressing _her_.

She hummed, tilting her head and looking at him from under lashes. He looked good; shirtless and sweaty after sparring with Digg on the mats.

"You didn't hear a word I've said, have you?" his voice was a deep rumble and his brows were furrowed in hurt.

"I—yes, yes I did," she lied quickly and unconvincingly if his slightly raised brow meant anything. "OK. No I did not," Felicity bobbed her head fast, hair in her ponytail brushing against the center of her back. "But you have to know how lost I get in the zone."

His lips twitched as if holding back a smile, his dark blue eyes softening. "Yeah, you really do," he admitted, "so I asked you if everything was alright."

Felicity could feel her pink colored lips pursing, eyes narrowing, and orange nails tapping the desk as she thought. She could think of nothing that could be wrong; there had been nothing odd happening as of recent. Well…except for the jobless and slightly poor Oliver Queen, but Felicity didn't think that qualified for what Oliver was asking.

"Ummm. Nope," she answered truthfully while adjusting her glasses.

"Felicity," it was said with a harsh breath this time, "you've been quiet lately and, a bit distant."

Oh. _Oh God no_. He really wanted to talk about _that_.

Felicity knew she'd been a bit distant after the whole 'I love you/we sold it' ordeal—often times stepping away from his hand resting on the small of her back, moving from the warm palm that sat on her shoulder, not hugging Oliver when returning from dangerous situations, and lack of talking and/or rambling without use of her brain-to-mouth filter.

She just wanted to take a step back from her life heavily featuring Oliver Queen/The Arrow. He wasn't in love with her, fine, Felicity wouldn't sulk about it like a sixteen-year-old. But that didn't mean she wanted to chat about it all with Oliver in the foundry.

In fact, whatever it was that lay between them, was like getting thrown into the wild—it was vast, very much unknown and filled with moments that make or break you. And Felicity had quite enough playing around in the wilderness with Oliver for a little while.

For once it would be Felicity Smoak who put the brakes on it.

"I'm just tired, Oliver. And a bit annoyed at the state of my babies due to Roy's once desire to destroy everything in his path. Then there's the fact that I was held in a murderous _psychopath's_ arms with a _sword_ at my throat, stabbed the cure in _his_ throat, and lived to tell the tale—much less left without injury. It's just been a _long_ week."

Many emotions flashed across Oliver's face during her little babbled rant, but what made Felicity almost flinch was the flash of hurt that passed over his face, almost as if he knew though the reasons listed weren't lies, neither were they the complete truth.

"My offer still stands you know," he told her softly, deep voice carrying a velvet undertone and his lips twitched in a vague smile as he placed his hand on her shoulder, giving a squeeze when she didn't move. "I'm always here if you need to tell somebody about your day."

With that he stalked off to return to his workout or whatever else he did on that side of the foundry when he wasn't pushing his body to the limit.

Less than a minute later Diggle's whispered voice broke the new silence, "You know the two of you will eventually have to talk about it?"

Spinning her chair slightly to face him, Felicity let out a slight snort, blue eyes flashing with weary amusement. "That'll be the day."

"One day," John spoke, voice tinged with exasperated humor, "one day, the two of you will see what everyone else does. And I for one can't wait to be the first to say 'I told you so.'"

Unable to really think of anything to say, she made a face at him, before turning back to her broken babies, ignoring the faint chuckle from Digg as he wandered over towards Oliver, probably to start sparring again.

Felicity couldn't help the curl of her lips at the thought that Oliver would want to engage in any conversation that dealt in _feelings_. Deciding to borrow Oliver's modus operandi, she was going to pretend that whole moment with him never happened—lose herself in the familiar world of computers and not resurface until Digg returned with the Chinese food.

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_**[Fin.]**_


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